Games
by XWaltzforVenusX
Summary: RyanTaylor. The Cohens go to Rhode Island, but Ryan stays behind. A bored Taylor comes over to visit.
1. Monopoly

_So I've been noticing lately that my stories are a little… dramatic and angst-y. __So I decided I needed something light, and that's where this little thing came from._

_Enjoy, and, as always, review!_

* * *

"Taylor. Hey." He was still awkward around her, even though they were supposed to be friends.

"Hello Ryan." Her inflection was cheerful, and she clasped her hands in front of her. "I was thinking that we should hang out because the Cohens aren't here, and Summer is off at Brown."

He pushed his hands into his pockets and shrugged. "Yeah, sure. What did you have in mind?"

* * *

"Ooh, Park Place. Pay up, Townsend," Ryan teased, placing his hand palm up over the middle of the board. Taylor pouted and handed the money over.

"This is the last time I use this piece. This top hat is bad luck, I swear." She frowned at the little metal piece, "can I switch?"

"No. Once you pick a piece, you have to keep it for the entire game." Ryan looked proudly down at his Scottie dog.

"Ok, see, now you're making up rules, Atwood. You're just smug because you picked the lucky piece," Taylor gestured at Ryan's obvious abundance of properties and money.

"I don't see why you don't just give up now." Ryan rolled and smiled broadly as he picked up a Community Chest card and collected his 50 dividend.

"Because I can still catch up. If you land on Vermont Avenue the next… eleven times around and go straight to jail - do not pass go, do not collect 200 - and I miss every one of your properties and win the lottery 4 times, then I could win." She frowned. "Wait… thirteen times around."

"It's hopeless, Townsend, you're mine," he was grinning wickedly at her.

"I do not loose, Atwood." She rolled. "Motherfu…" she cut herself off before the curse escaped. Ryan let out a loud laugh as she moved her piece. "I hate this game, it's stupid," she informed him as she shelled over her entire 'go' money to Ryan's railroad.

"Wait, I thought it was the top hat that was causing your losing streak?" It always made Taylor happy when Ryan smiled, but not when it was because she was losing this horribly at Monopoly.

She had no reply ready. Instead she slumped her shoulders forward, bottom lip jutting out stubbornly. Ryan rolled the dice and almost flinched when Taylor twitched furiously. "Free Parking? Do you know how many times I tried landing on that stupid spot?"

"I'm guessing every time around the board," he commented breezily, picking up almost 500 in jackpot money.

She let out a frustrated moan and shifted her position, dipping her feet over the edge of the pool. The cool water soothed her temper, and she breathed in deeply. She was Zen.

"Are you ready to go?" Ryan was trying to hold back a smile, pretending to rest his jaw on his hand while really covering his mouth.

"Can we get something to eat first? I'm starving."

"Fine," he sighed dramatically. "But you're still losing, and you still have to go when we come back."

They both got up and walked to the kitchen. It was in there that Ryan saw the clock. He and Taylor had been playing for about an hour and a half now. Good God, Monopoly was a long game. He looked back at Taylor, who was busily preparing them both sandwiches and lemonade. He leaned against the counter and just watched as she did all the work. Apparently she had some sixth sense that told her when someone was staring because she froze, and then turned her head to look at him.

"You could help, you know," she informed.

"I could, but it just seems appropriate that the loser: you, would make lunch for the winner: me." The smug look was back on his face.

"You know, Ryan Atwood, you are a lot meaner than you first appear." But she turned back fixing the sandwiches. When she was done, she shoved his plate and drink into his hands. "I should have poisoned them."

* * *

They sat on the two lounges by the pool, their game abandoned for now. Ryan couldn't help but stare in wonder as Taylor ate her sandwich ravenously. He was used to girls picking at their food, afraid of looking fat. She noticed him watching her. "What? I'm a growing girl."

"I wasn't going to say anything. Except maybe 'slow down', because there is a slight choking hazard involved here." She swallowed her mouthful, and then stuck out her tongue at him.

"So are you having a terrible time?" Her question caught him a little off guard.

"What do you mean?"

"Hanging out with me. You didn't seem too enthused when I first suggested it." She didn't look upset, angry, or judging. She just sipped her lemonade and waited for an answer. It struck Ryan as slightly sad that she was this used to people not liking her.

"Well, I'll say this: you're never boring." She laughed, choking a little on her drink. "See what I told you about choking?"

She glared at him, but didn't answer. "Anyway, where are the Cohens?"

"Visiting RISD. They want to make sure it's really where he wants to go." She nodded, understanding.

"So why aren't you there?" She finished the last of her sandwich, washing it down with the lemonade.

He shrugged. "Work. Plus, I didn't feel like listening to Seth whine and Kirsten get all sad that her baby is leaving."

Taylor smiled. "It must be so nice to have parents that actually care."

"It is," Ryan answered, realizing how lucky he was to have them. He knew what it was like to have awful parents. He looked back over at Taylor, "sorry."

"It's ok. I've come to accept that my mother will never love me. See, I figured that out when she kicked me out of the house and called me a stupid whore." Ryan's eyes widened, and he didn't know how to answer. "Oh, stupid because I married someone, and a whore because I did it impulsively," she explained.

"Ah."

"I suppose you want to get back to our game so you can continue to take all of my money," she sighed, and got off the lounge.

* * *

"Taylor, just admit defeat." Ryan was smiling broadly. Taylor was down to 100 and three properties.

"Oh fine," she cried, throwing her money and properties into the middle. "Now I have no money, and no place to live." She froze, realizing what she just said. How was this her life? How did she keep ending up with no money, and no home? Ryan seemed to have noticed the connection, because he wasn't looking at her.

"It's not that bad…"

"Ryan, I'm freeloading off of Dr. Roberts while Summer's not even there, with Julie and Kaitlin Cooper. I have no job, my mother has cut me off, and I have no friends here, because, no offense, but I don't really think you and Seth even like me." She covered her eyes with her hand. She was such a wreck, and it was embarrassing in front of Ryan. She liked him so much, and knowing he could barely stand her made her feel awful.

"Taylor, it's not that bad. I mean, look at me. I'm an emotionally distant, ex-cage fighter who put off college and ran away from the family that took him in, in order to not have to deal with anything." He cringed, and then added, "and I can't speak for Seth, but I like you."

"Wow, Ryan. That was very healthy of you to admit." She reached over and patted his arm. "But you have the Cohens, and you can catch up on college next fall."

They sat in silence for a minute. "What do you wanna do now?" Ryan broke the silence. She shrugged.

"I want to tell my mother that I'm not a whore." She smiled, and Ryan smiled back, relieved that she was joking about it. "What we really need to do is play some other game so I can kick your ass."

_

* * *

_

Review!


	2. Ping Pong & Pool

_OK, chapter two. __Ping-pong and pool.__ Who do you __think's __gonna__ win?_

* * *

"Ah!" Taylor slammed the paddle down on the table. "Ping pong is not a game. It's an invention of the devil to make people feel stupid and uncoordinated."

Ryan laughed and walked around the table. "It's really not that hard."

"Says you. Did Satan send you here to torment me?" she retorted.

He positioned himself next to her, demonstrating. "Hold the paddle like this," she adjusted her grip. "Now hit the ball… gently…" he was too late: Taylor had already slammed the white ball into the next room. He ran to retrieve it as she stomped her foot.

"This is too hard. Let's go back to Monopoly."

He got back to her side of the table, this time standing behind her. He fixed her grip, then showed her exactly how to plant her feet. "Now," he said, taking the same stance and grabbing her hand, "swing the paddle gently, like this." He followed through, and hit the ball across the net. It landed in the opposite quadrant and bounced perfectly past the non-existent opponent. "See? Now you do it."

She mimicked his serve, and was overjoyed when the ball went over the net and hit the other side of the table. "I did it!" Her voice squeaked, and she held her arms in the air in celebration. He grinned at her enthusiasm.

"All it takes is a little patience and control," he explained, walking back over to his side.

"Oh, Ryan," she shook her head sadly, "those are two qualities I do not possess. Well, sometimes control, but not when it comes to physical things." She paused, horrified. "Oh, that came out the wrong way. I meant physical things like sports, not like sex." She flushed red, and her voice trailed off.

Ryan shook his head. Control really was something she lacked.

* * *

"Ok, if I sucked at ping-pong, what makes you think I'd be any better at pool?" Taylor asked, staring at the pool stick warily, and wondering what her lack of coordination could do with it. A glance around the room showed all of Kirsten's expensive vases and decorations. This was not good.

"Well, ping-pong is kind of fast paced. Pool you can take your time, line up your shot," he racked the balls quickly and efficiently, "concentrate." Great, Taylor thought, he really knew what he was doing.

"Yes, well, don't you remember our conversation about how I have no self control? Plus, I'm not sure I can handle losing for the third time in a row." He placed the white ball on the table, and gestured for her to break. She sighed, "fine. But if I kill you because a ball smashes into your head, or I impale you with the stick…"

Ryan grinned, holding up his hands in surrender. "Look, it's ok, I'll be over here." He stepped off to the side as she sighed and she bent over the table, trying to line up a shot. Ryan folded his arms, leaning against the wall and enjoying the view.

She was just getting the hang of holding this thing when she was distracting by Ryan laughing. She sighed in frustration, and straightened up. "What?" she asked in exasperation.

"Nothing…" she flashed him a look that demanded an explanation. "You just look ridiculous."

She stuck her tongue out at him, and resumed her previous position; she would figure this one out herself. She pulled her arm back, readjusted, then pushed it forward, and heard a clack as it hit the ball.

Unfortunately, she hadn't aimed properly, and the ball went forward slowly towards the side, where it hit, bounced off, and finally knocked against one of the corner balls. The corner ball moved about six inches, coming to rest near the edge of the table. Taylor gaped at it in horror, and Ryan was leaning on his cue stick, laughing.

"Shut up."

"That was so bad, Taylor. Haven't you ever played pool before?" He got control of himself, and moved around to the side where the white ball rested.

"No. Mother said pool was a common, ugly game. And it's not like I go to random bars and challenge the locals to a match."

He laughed a little, before taking aim expertly. He snapped the cue so fast it was a blur, and the triangle of balls went flying in all directions. Taylor groaned as two of them went into the pockets. He smirked, shifted position, aimed, and there was a loud crack and a thump as another ball went into a pocket.

"Ok, this game is going to be over in about 30 seconds," Taylor whined, crossing her arms. Ryan grinned.

"Fine, how's this? We'll just take turns going, even if I get something in. And if you get something in, you can take your second turn…"

"This is so sad," she told him, moving towards the table. Taking a deep breath, she lined up her cue with the white ball.

"Um, Taylor, you do know you're not supposed to get the 8-ball in until the end," he warned when he saw where she was aiming.

She looked up. "I knew that," she laughed, trying to adjust her position without his notice. He rolled his eyes, but let her think she was being stealthy. She pulled back, and released hard. "Taylor-" Ryan began, but it was too late.

She had hit the ball at an odd angle, and it flew off the table, smashing into a piece of pottery. Taylor gasped, one hand going to her mouth, "oh no!" She made a sudden move to run to the broken shards, and the action caused her cue stick to whip into a vase. The shattering noise made her freeze. "Oh God, it's like a bloodbath in here," she moaned, shutting her eyes tightly.

"It's ok," Ryan said soothingly, cautiously moving towards her. "Just keep still, until I can…" he grabbed the cue out of her hands quickly, backing away when he did.

When her weapon was gone, she opened her eyes. "Kirsten's going to kill me."

"It's ok, Kirsten barely comes down here. She probably won't even notice…" he looked at the two piles of broken shards. "I mean, that thing," he pointed to the pile of pottery, "was hideous. Some African fertility thing Hailey - her sister - got her for a birthday. The vase…" he trailed off.

"The vase?" Taylor whispered in horror.

"Well, that was kind of from her mother…" Taylor groaned sadly.

"I knew this was a bad idea."

"Look, Kirsten has hundreds of things from her mother, and considering she put it in the game room just shows how much she doesn't really care about it…" he tried to comfort her. She groaned again.

* * *

Taylor sat on the couch, head in her hands. Ryan looked skeptically at the thing in front of them. "It doesn't look exactly the same…"

"Really?" Taylor said sarcastically, looking up. They had tried to glue the vase back together, quite unsuccessfully. She dropped her head back down, not able to look at it any longer.

"Look, Taylor, Kirsten really won't care…"

"It doesn't matter! This is just awful! I'm so stupid and clumsy; I can't believe I did this. I should have learned the last time I tried to play sports…"

He raised an eyebrow. "The last time you tried to play sports…" he goaded. This promised to be an awesome story.

She sighed, finally raising her head again. "The last time I played sports was in gym class back at Harbor. We were playing tennis, and I hit the ball too hard, and the kid had to go to the emergency room…"

Ryan barked out a surprised laugh. "Where did you hit him?"

She sighed, "the spleen, or something in that general area," she waved her hands vaguely. "All I know is something burst and he had to miss a month of school. They also told me I didn't have to do gym anymore, and I spent the rest of the classes in study hall. This isn't funny!" she scolded, noticing that he was laughing.

"Come on Taylor, you burst someone's spleen trying to play tennis? That's hilarious."

She glared at him. "It's not hilarious. You should see me try to walk, I'm a disaster. I trip over air, and I dislocated my shoulder once from running into a door. I don't know what it is, it's like my body is just completely detached from my brain. It's why I keep rambling when I know I should stop. Like now? My brain is yelling at me to shut up, but I just keep going, and going, and going, and going, and going. I'm like the Energizer bunny, except less pink and without the big base drum." She sunk back into the couch.

"It can't be that bad." Ryan commented, leaning back as well.

"Says you. You have no idea what it's like. You're all coordinated and monosyllabic. No one ever thinks '_there goes crazy Ryan again, tripping over stuff and talking way too much'_."

"I do think that about you. All the time," he joked. She glared at him.

"I'm glad you think this is so funny, Ryan Atwood," she pouted, turning her head away from him.

"Fine, let's do something else to take your mind off it."

_

* * *

_

I hope you enjoyed, and review!


	3. Video Games & Pride

_OK, this chapter is nothing but pure, unabashed fluff.__Which is weird, because I usually write either angst or smut (or a combination of both).__ So here it __is,__ my first attempt at a happy little chapter with no drama._

_Enjoy and, as always, review!_

* * *

"Oh! Taylor Townsend comes back with a vengeance!" Taylor squealed, hitting the buttons harder. Ryan shook his head sadly. She was one of those video game players who moved their entire body with the controller, but damn it if she wasn't winning. She threw her hands into the air and he groaned. A giant smile lit up her face, and she turned towards him. "I won! Take that, Ryan Atwood!"

"Ok, let's do something else," he threw away his controller, and tried to grab hers.

"Oh, I see how it is," she twisted away from him. "Now that I'm actually winning something, you wanna switch games."

"No, I just think it's time for a new game," he was still trying to grab the device from her. She rolled into a protective ball around the controller. "Alright, Townsend," he pushed himself off the floor, and grabbed her around the waist. He pulled her up, and got the controller away from her.

"Put me down. Ryan!" her voice was commanding.

"Yeah, I don't see that happening." He hauled her over his shoulder, and walked outside where their Monopoly game was still sitting by the pool. "Now, Townsend, this is what happens when you start thinking you're better than me."

"Ryan, I swear to God…" she didn't get to finish her threat because she was suddenly under water. She broke surface, and cleared the water from her eyes. "I can't believe you just did that!" Ryan was standing above her, laughing. She scowled and swam over to the ladder, pulling herself up. "You are such an ass, Ryan Atwood!" she stomped towards him, holding up a finger, scolding.

Ryan tried to control his smile. Water spilled off of her like a waterfall onto the concrete. She glared, seeing that he wasn't taking her threat seriously. "Well, I think you deserved it," he told her. "You were getting such a big head…"

"Me?" she asked indignantly. "You told me that I should serve you lunch because you were winning at Monopoly!" He shrugged. She put her hands on her hips and scowled. "Look, if you weren't, like, twenty times bigger than me, you'd be in that pool."

"I'm not twenty times bigger than you. Two, maybe three, but not twenty. And even if I weren't, I wouldn't be in the pool, because I'm better than you," he explained, tone mocking.

He was shocked, though, when she grabbed his shirt and hauled him towards the pool with all her strength. It worked, and he hit the cold water with a giant splash. Of course, her momentum had flung her in as well, but she was still quite satisfied with herself.

They both surfaced, and he looked at her indignantly. "It's cold!"

"Yeah, not so smug now, huh Atwood?" She ignored his attempt at a scowl, and started to swim to the ladder.

"No way," he grunted, swimming after her.

She squealed in fright and tried to swim faster, but he caught up. He grabbed her around the waist with one arm, swinging her back behind him. He was just about to grab the metal bar when he felt her jump onto his back, pulling them both beneath the surface. There was a blind struggle under the water, and Taylor surfaced nearer to the ladder. She cried out triumphantly, hauling herself up towards the concrete. She crawled out of the pool, Ryan a split second behind her. They lay on their backs on the hot pavement for a long time, breathing heavily and trying to dry off a bit.

"Truce?" Ryan panted, turning his head to look at her.

"Truce," she agreed, still staring up into the sky.

"Want some dry clothes?"

"Dry would be good."

* * *

The pool house bathroom door opened. "Um, Ryan, do you have anything smaller than this?" Taylor peeked her head out.

Ryan was drying his head with a towel, properly dressed in clean, dry clothes again. He turned towards the door. "Not really. I gave you my clothes from three years ago," he told her. "Why?"

She stepped out of the bathroom, his t-shirt hanging off her frame. She wasn't even wearing the pants he had loaned her, but the shirt came down far enough to hit her thighs.

"Maybe Seth has some clothes that will fit…" he looked at her skeptically.

* * *

"Better?" he asked when she entered the kitchen.

"Much," she twirled, showing off Seth's pants. She was still wearing Ryan's shirt – it was comfortable, she explained – but his pants had been way too loose.

"I guess I never realized how skinny Seth was," Ryan mused, taking a drink of coffee.

"It's because he's always standing next to Summer. Have you ever noticed how tiny she is?" Taylor opened the refrigerator door and grabbed a diet coke.

"But she's scary," he said, thinking back to some of her rage blackouts, and Taylor giggled. Ryan looked at her, eyeing her warily. "You are too."

She gasped in mock horror. "Moi?"

He grinned. "Yeah, you small girls are brutal. I mean, you hurled me into a pool."

"You threw me in first!" she accused.

"See, you're getting scary again." He positioned the kitchen island between them. "You're all intense and high pitched."

She glared at him, and she shook the can of soda harshly. Ryan let out a shout of horror as she tilted it towards him, opening the bottle and spraying its contents onto him. He stood for a second, wiping the sticky-sweet liquid off his face. "Alright, Townsend. Back in the pool."

* * *

She ran full tilt down the driveway, wishing she had shoes on. The pavement was hot, and it burned her feet as she ran. She could hear Ryan behind her, feet pounding the pavement in pursuit. She passed the gate, and turned right onto the street, past Julie Cooper's old house.

Neighbors raised their eyebrows judgmentally as the two teenagers flew by. A couple of them shook their heads at the state of the neighborhood. It had been going downhill ever since that boy from _Chino_ moved in. And now here he was: chasing some poor girl down the street. He was probably trying to rob her or something.

* * *

Ryan focused solely on Taylor's back as they ran. He was slowly but surely catching up with her. To be honest, he hadn't expected her to be this fast.

She took a quick left, dashing into someone's yard. It threw him off for a second, but he changed directions and continued the pursuit. They ran straight through a backyard pool party, the guests gasping as they went by.

"Sorry!" Taylor called politely as they passed, and Ryan had to laugh at her manners. But he took her lead, holding his hand up in apology.

Then they were past and crashing through hedges, branches scratching their arms as they shielded their faces. They emerged into another yard, and Ryan finally caught up.

* * *

The Burke family was still standing around, stunned. Two teenagers had just run through the middle of their party, and crashed through the hedges separating their yard from the Collins'.

"What just happened?" Carson asked his wife, but was interrupted by a shriek.

"Oh, God, is he killing her?" Alison gasped, wide-eyed, as they all turned towards the Collins' yard.

"I think that was the boy the Cohens adopted," one of the women gossiped, eyes slanting in judgment.

"And wasn't that Veronica Townsends's daughter?" another woman joined in, raising her eyebrows suggestively. "She told me she was in France."

"I guess not anymore…" the first woman covered her mouth. The second woman was about to say something when they heard rustling in the hedges again.

"Put me down!" The girl was thrown over the boy's shoulder, struggling to dislodge herself.

"Sorry, folks," the boy nodded to them all in apology.

"Ryan!" the girl was giggling, kicking her feet. "If you throw me in the pool again…" The boy looked smug, and he grinned at the guests – most of the men hid their smiles.

When the two were gone, back out into the street, the women all began to whisper desperately.

_"Did you see…"_

_"…in public…"_

_"…what was she wearing…"_

_"…state of the youth today…"_

The men all rolled their eyes as their wives and girlfriends talked about the latest scandal: Veronica Townsend's daughter with the boy from _Chino_.

_

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_

Review!


	4. Poker

_This is__ written for Angel__l4NEPatriots__ and Avecia, both of whom wanted a poker-themed chapter. Gee. Ryan, Taylor, alone. I wonder what kind of poker it will __be?_

_Enjoy and review please!_

* * *

They stood in the kitchen, deciding what to eat.

"We could have sandwiches again," Taylor suggested, none too thrilled about the idea.

"Or we could just order out," Ryan opened a drawer loaded with takeout menus.

"Oh, thank God," Taylor sighed, picking up the stack and beginning to sift through it. "Chinese!" she picked up a menu and shoved it at him.

* * *

Taylor clutched her stomach with a grimace. "I'm so full, I might actually burst," she moaned, leaning back against the couch.

"Me too," Ryan agreed through a mouthful of rice.

"Then stop eating," she giggled as he continued to shovel food into his mouth. He just shrugged, chewing. "Ok, next round," she pointed to the cards in front of them. He picked up the deck and doled out the cards, settling the rest of the deck next to him.

Taylor looked at her cards. Score. She had three sixes. "Two," she handed her other two cards over, and he doled out two more from the deck. Nothing useful. "Ok, I'll raise you… two Oreos." She threw the cookies into the middle, next to a Snickers bar and a can of Pepsi.

Ryan's face was like stone, but she detected a hint of sorrow. Awesome, he had a bad hand. And she was hiding her smile very well. See, she could be in control if she wanted.

"I'll see your Oreos," he pushed two cookies in, "and raise you a gift card to Barnes and Noble."

He was trying to fake her out. "Fine. I see your gift card with a coupon for a free movie," she pulled the piece of paper out of her wallet and threw it onto the pile.

"Ok, show."

She laid down her three sixes proudly. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, placing down his hand silently. A pair of tens and a pair of threes.

"I win?" she asked, then squealed when he nodded. She grabbed her haul and pulled the load of food and gift cards toward her. She looked down at her winnings. "You know, this may actually be the least healthy poker game ever played," she gestured at the candy and soda.

"Well, we don't want to play for money. That'll just get ugly," he told her rationally.

"Well, what else can we play with?"

* * *

"What?" she moaned desperately. "How are you winning all the sudden?"

"Stop complaining, Townsend, and pay up," he leaned back against a table expectantly. She pouted at him, then stood up and began unbuttoning her – Seth's – jeans. Ryan just sat back and smirked, enjoying the show. He was a little disappointed that she was also wearing a pair of Seth's boxers underneath.

"Just deal," she said, ignoring his disappointment and sitting back down again. He did as she told him to.

"Three," she said, and he handed her the proper amount of cards.

"Dealer takes two," he picked his own cards up. "Show."

He laid down a pair of jacks, while she put down a pair of queens. "I win," she grinned slyly. "Take it off, jack." He rolled his eyes at her pun, and took his shirt off. She forced her eyes to remain on his face and her heart rate to stay calm.

* * *

"Not fair," she told him as he pulled off his belt.

"You got to use your hair tie, so I get to use the belt," he threw the leather strap into a growing pile of clothes. It fell on top of Taylor's t-shirt, pants, and hair tie, and his shirt and socks. They each only had two more pieces of clothing to go: for Taylor, the boxers and one of Ryan's wife beaters, and for Ryan his pants and boxers.

"Well, do I get to use jewelry?" she fingered her necklace.

"No."

She grumbled something, but he ignored her and dealt the next hand.

* * *

Ryan waited in suspense as Taylor decided what article to remove next. Either way, he got a nice show. She bit her lip in concentration, but then her hands strayed to the hem of the wife beater. He made himself sit still as she slowly pulled the white shirt over her head.

"Awesome," Ryan smirked at her.

"Thank you!" she smiled, then looked down proudly. "They are quite nice." Ryan laughed, nodding his agreement. "Are you going to deal again, or just stare at my chest for the rest of the night?"

"Well, I was planning on the latter, but I guess you want me to deal again," he began throwing the cards out. They each took their appropriate amount of cards and exchanges. "You ready to show?" Ryan smirked, and Taylor knew he meant that in two ways. She looked at her cards, closed her eyes and nodded.

She put down a handful of… nothing. Nothing, king high. He smiled triumphantly, and spread a full house onto the rug.

"Alright, Townsend," he settled himself comfortably, leaning back against the table. "Now, feel free to remove them slowly, and if you wanna dance a little…"

Taylor glared at him, standing up. She had butterflies in her stomach, which was weird. Normally she was fine being naked – she used to walk around Henri-Michel's apartment stark nude when they were married. But something about being naked in front of Ryan was unnerving. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of the boxers, and pushed them down. They landed around her ankles, and she kicked them off towards the pile of clothes.

She wanted to cross her arms in front of herself, but she didn't know which part to cover first. Ryan's gaze was raking over her as she stood there. He was completely silent and his face was impassive. He just kept looking at her…

"Ryan?" she was surprised at how timid her voice sounded. He didn't move an inch, and she was getting way too nervous. "I'm just… I'm gonna put my clothes back on," she sounded strained. Heading over to the pile of clothes, she knelt down and grabbed a shirt out, throwing it over her head. She thanked whoever was listening that it covered her. She risked a glance up at him again, and almost had a heart attack when she saw that his gaze had followed her. It was like his eyes were burning a hole through her… "Well, I'm sure my real clothes are done in the dryer by now, so I'll go get them," she was whispering by now, and she ducked out of the room as quickly as she could.

* * *

Her clothes were still warm, and it was comforting. It was also comforting to be fully covered for when she had to face Ryan again. Oh God, what if he was disgusted? She wasn't fat or anything; in fact, she thought she had a great shape. But what if just the thought of _Taylor Townsend_ _naked_ made Ryan sick? She couldn't handle that…

She wished she didn't have this damn crush on him. It really was a pain, trying to cope with him. He never said anything, and it was hard to gauge his feelings.

Stepping back into the living room, she found him standing near the window. His body language did not bode well: legs braced wide, arms crossed, jaw clenched, eyes focused out into the darkening sky. And he was fully clothed again, which was – _a little disappointing_ – better for her. She cleared her throat, but he didn't turn to face her.

"I guess I should go…" even though her voice was no more than a whisper, it rang out through the silent room. "Maybe I'll see you. Around the mall, I mean. When you're working. Not that I'll come see you when you're working, I just meant maybe I'll happen by _while_ you're working, and we'd _happen_ to see each other." She knew she was rambling again. Stupid Energizer bunny. "Ok, so… I'm going. Here's your shirt back. Thanks for letting me borrow it…" she placed his shirt warily onto the couch, then started towards the back door. Her purse was in the pool house, and if her keys hadn't been in there, Taylor would have probably just left it. She wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible, fearing the inevitable outburst from Ryan, telling her that he was repulsed by her…

Luckily the pool house door was unlocked, so she didn't have to go back in and face him for the key. Her purse was sitting on the bed, just where she had left it. She grabbed it quickly, and jetted out of his room. She snuck quietly around the house, towards her car in the driveway. He hadn't followed her at all.

She sighed in relief when she got to her car, and stupidly glanced up at the house. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him, still at the window, still watching her, arms still folded, jaw still clenched. Her eyes flicked back down to the car, and she fumbled to get her key into the lock.

She had to calm herself down considerably after she got inside. He couldn't see her anymore, she reasoned, and she shouldn't drive when she was so upset. She breathed deeply for a few seconds – _Zen_ – then started the car. In her rearview mirror, he was still watching her.

_

* * *

_

I'm not sure that was the ending people wanted from strip poker, but… ah well, it is rated T…

_Review!_


	5. MiniGolf & Batting Cages

_When I first started to write this chapter it seemed… odd.__ Off, a little. Then I realized there were no games in it, and that seemed wrong. So I deleted the whole thing, rewrote it, and voila! __New __chaptery__ goodness._

_Enjoy and review!_

* * *

Taylor stayed in her room for weeks. Well, it wasn't really her room, but it was beginning to feel like home. She knew that when Summer came home for winter break, though, she'd have to get out. It made her a little sad to know that finals were coming up; if she had stayed in France, she'd be studying right now instead of… whatever she was doing.

What _was_ she doing? Hiding? From Ryan? Well, yes, she was trying to avoid him, but that didn't mean she couldn't leave her room – it's not like they really went to the same places. She doubted she'd see him at the spa, or out shopping. But she might see her mother. The thought alone made her want to duck under the covers and never come out. She was hiding from life.

How did her life get this complicated? No home, no money, no friends, no freedom. Her only relief lately was that Henri-Michel had finally agreed to a divorce. It had taken a few months – and many threats to sic her mother on him – before the man finally got it through his head that she didn't want him. At least _something_ in her life was going well.

* * *

"Summer?" Taylor's head sprang up as the brunette walked into the room, loaded with bags and looking incredibly forlorn.

"Hey, Taylor," she mumbled, dropping the bags by the closet, then flopping on the bed next to the other girl. "I got kicked out of Brown."

* * *

"We're so pathetic," Summer complained loudly, throwing the crust back into the box. Taylor nodded, looking sadly down at the empty pizza box on the bed between them. Summer had refused Taylor's offer to move out of the room, and the two girls had camped out in one giant slumber party for two weeks.

"We should get out," Taylor was suddenly determined. "Let's go to the spa."

"No," Summer twisted her face, thinking. "We've been sitting around and eating pizza way too much, we need to get some exercise."

* * *

"Mini-golf?" Taylor looked dubiously at the sign. "Ok, first of all, it's not exactly heavy exercise, and two, I suck at sports." She refused to let her mind flash back to _him_.

"Ok, well, one," Summer shot back at her, "it's a really nice day out. Two, we don't want to suddenly jump back in to heavy exercise. And three, we look _so_ cute." Taylor smiled. The two girls had dressed in plaid skirts and bright sweaters, with little golf hats, and knee socks. They looked the picture of preppy golf players.

"Fine," Taylor sighed dramatically. "I'll get us the clubs and balls."

Summer stayed back, enjoying the sunshine. She had forgotten how bright California was. Her cell phone began to buzz. "Cohen?" she was a little annoyed. She just wanted a guilt-free day, and Cohen made her feel guilty. He didn't do anything on purpose, but she felt like she had abandoned him and turned into this whole new person. Being back made her feel that.

"Hey Summer, I was just wondering if you would like to do something with me and Ryan."

"I'm mini-golfing with Taylor," she looked over to where the girl was standing in line.

"Mini-golf is perfect!" Seth breathed excitedly. "I need to get Ryan out of the house. He's been extra-broody lately. I think he's going back into post-graduation mode. He's been like this ever since I got back from visiting RISD."

"Fine," Summer sighed. "I'll tell Taylor to get extra clubs and balls, and so help me God, Cohen, if you make a joke about clubs and balls, I'll kill you when you get here."

"I wasn't," he said defensively. "And don't do that, cause I'm not even sure I can convince Ryan to go. So just… don't tell Taylor anything, and go on with playing. If we come, I'll find you. I always do," his voice went all drippy and romantic, and she giggled at his stupidity.

"Bye, Cohen," she hung up, smiling.

* * *

"Ryan, man," Seth walked into the pool house, a bright smile on his face. "The mom wants us to run some errands."

"I don't feel like going," Ryan was laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"But I need you. You _know_ how bad I am at heavy lifting."

* * *

"Kirsten wants us to run errands at a mini-golf course?" Ryan glared sideways at the boy as the car turned left into the place.

"Ok, you caught me, we're not running errands. But it's too late to go back, and some time in the sun will do you good." Seth parked, turned off the car, and got out, waiting for his brother to do the same. Ryan debated beating the keys out of Seth and going home, but decided he didn't want to hear the complaining for the next three years.

They got the clubs and balls, Seth making a wildly inappropriate joke, then headed toward the green. "Hey, let's skip the first three holes," Seth exclaimed, making a sudden left across the grass. Ryan looked up and saw the two girls putting on the fourth hole.

* * *

"See, Townsend," Summer called encouragingly, "you're not doing so bad."

And she wasn't. No accidents, no injuries, no broken, irreplaceable pottery. She lifted the club to take a swing, when she heard a voice call Summers name. She looked up and saw _him_, which made her swing the club harder than she wanted to.

"Jesus!" a loud cry erupted from the direction her ball had flown. A man looked startled; her ball had missed his head by inches.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" her heart was pounding, pumping blood through her so fast she thought she would faint. To cover her embarrassment – and to get away from _him_ – she ran to find her ball, which had landed in the bushes somewhere.

"Watch where you're swinging," the man said, still frightened.

"I know, I'm really sorry. At least there's no burst spleen…" the man looked at her like she was insane. "I'm sorry," she apologized again, making her way to the bushes surrounding the grass. Where was her damn ball? There weren't that many bushes, and the bright pink of the ball should stick out clearly against the dark mulch. Where the-

"Taylor?"

She stumbled into a bush, branches scratching her bare legs. A steady hand wrapped around her arm, hauling her upright. "Thanks," she mumbled, trying to gain composure. She finally looked up at him, plastering a smile on her face. "Hi Ryan, I didn't know you were coming!"

"Um, yeah," he looked unsure of himself. "I didn't either. I think Seth and Summer planned this outing."

"Oh." She made a mental note to murder Summer in her sleep. "Well, I was just looking for my ball," she explained, looking towards the ground nervously.

"Yeah. I'll help," he suggested. The both waited for the other to move.

"Ryan, your hand?" her voice was quiet, and he realized he was still gripping her arm. He let go of it like it burned, turning away and hunting through the bushes. "I told Summer," she began, unable to stop the ramble she knew was coming, "that I'm awful at these things. I told her that I tend to hurt people and break things, but she didn't listen. And here I am, almost hitting random people in the head. Can you imagine the headlines? 'Pink mini-golf ball crushes man's skull, irritating girl a suspect'." A flash of color caught her eye, and she pulled the ball out from under a branch. "Found it."

He nodded, turning back to her. They stood for a long, awkward, while. "We should get back," he suggested, and she nodded, walking out ahead of him. They were halfway back to Seth and Summer when he spoke again. "You are God-awful at sports."

* * *

"What the-" Seth watched in amazement as Ryan and Taylor came back. He had sent his brother to help the girl – she really was a mess sometimes – and now he was coming back, laughing. Ryan hadn't laughed in a while. A long while. Maybe Taylor _was_ good for something other than long anime debates. "Hey guys," he greeted, still confused, as the two reached him and Summer.

"I don't think we should let Taylor play anymore," Ryan's eyes were amused, and the Townsend girl glared at him. "Either that or clear the course of all life forms before she touches the club."

"You know what, Atwood," she turned on the boy, raising the club threateningly, "I'm about ready to hit you over the head with this. And knowing my coordination, it will end up somewhere even more painful, if you catch my drift."

Seth and Summer exchanged glances at the two blondes continued their argument. Summer rolled her eyes, a silent _whatever_, and suggested out loud that they should all continue the game.

* * *

Chunks of grass and dirt flew up as Taylor swung her club into the ground, "God-" she cut off the curse.

"Face it, Townsend," Ryan shook his head, marking off the hole on their scorecard, "you lost. There's no way you could possibly catch up." He protested when she grabbed the scorecard from him. Frowning over the little white sheet, she quickly tallied everyone's points.

"I can still catch up to Seth," she informed him, "if… I get holes in one on the last five holes and he gets holes in threes, at least."

"Ok, well, considering you've been getting holes in sixes or sevens, I don't see that happening. Although," he said louder, turning to Seth, "that doesn't excuse your horrible score. What happened to the little old Jewish man inside you that just _lived_ for golf?"

"He died," Seth squinted in the sun. "Summer crushed him to death by calling him boring and lame."

"Sorry, Cohen," she didn't sound sorry, "it's not my fault I don't like staying inside on a Saturday night and curling up in front of Hollywood Squares." She set her feet, squared her shoulders, took aim, and hit her green ball neatly into the hole. "Count it, Atwood."

"Way to go, Summer," Taylor said encouragingly. "I need you to beat Ryan."

"What?" he glared at her, shoving the scorecard in his pocket so he could take his shot.

"Well, if I can't beat you, I want _someone_ to. You can't win, or you'll just be all smug and annoying." Taylor folded her arms, and Summer nodded at her.

"Let's do it, Taylor," she walked over and high-fived the other girl.

"Yeah?" Seth countered, "well Kid Chino and I-"

"I don't want your help," Ryan interrupted, hitting the ball, which curved slightly right of the hole. "You're bad at this game."

"Which makes me wonder," Seth ignored his brother's comments, "how did you get good? When we went golfing with Oliver that one time, you couldn't hit a ball into a coffee mug."

Ryan shrugged. "I used to visit Sandy sometimes in his office. We'd practice."

"Ok, well that's not exactly comforting," Seth replied as they all walked towards the end of the green. "Secret discussions that I didn't know about?"

"Yes, Seth," Ryan sighed, lining up his shot. "We sat around a big table with lots of charts and maps, planning out your demise," he putted, sinking the shot, "and laughing. You know, that villain laugh? We did that a lot."

"Now you're mocking me."

"You're very mockable," Summer patted his arm. "It's ok, Cohen. We still love you."

* * *

"This is so not a good idea," Taylor muttered, looking down at the bat in her hand nervously.

"Come on, Townsend, suck it up," Summer adjusted her helmet. "You're in an enclosed area and wearing a helmet."

"But batting cages? I'm just going to miss every time-" she broke off as Summer pushed her past the mesh gate. Taylor turned to face the machine, waiting breathlessly for the thing to hurl the first ball.

* * *

"That was so bad," Ryan laughed as she stepped out of the cage.

"Hey, I didn't hit anyone, and I didn't blow up the machine," she countered as Summer went in, Seth standing by the gate supportively. Taylor and Ryan stood back, out of hearing distance.

"Still. Although, you did look nice out there." His voice was flat, and he was watching Summer when her head snapped up towards him.

"What?" It wasn't the most eloquent reply. 'Thank you' would have been more appropriate. But 'what' was the only thing that came to her mind. Her heart began to pound furiously as his gaze turned towards her, dark amusement glinting in his eyes.

"Well," he began slowly, "I've seen you naked. So everything you do, I'm watching you do it naked."She was sure she looked like a fish, because her mouth opened and closed several times, unable to say the words that were running a mile a minute through her mind. He smirked at her, turning his attention back to where Summer was swinging vainly at the ball. "Come on," he grabbed her elbow as Summer took off her helmet and exited the cage.

"Let's get some ice cream," Seth suggested.

* * *

She tried not to stare at him incredulously, which was hard, because he was sitting across from her. Seth and Summer were busy arguing – something about Seth getting ice cream on Summer's nose – so they didn't notice the silent staring contest between the other two.

Ryan smirked at her, and her heart skipped about twenty beats. His eyes flicked down to her chest – _everthing__ you do, I'm watching you do it naked –_ and her face flushed red. She tried to glare at him, but he seemed to find it all the more amusing. He downed another spoonful of ice cream, and she stared at the way his lips drew around the spoon as he pulled it back out from his mouth. She looked up into his eyes, and it hit her - he knew exactly what he was doing.

Well, fine. She would play along. Raising her ice cream cone, she smiled coyly at him before darting out her tongue to lick the tip, satisfaction flooding her as he stiffened up a bit. She opened her mouth wider, letting a broader expanse of tongue lick up the ice cream on the next go. She continued like that, licking the cone slowly, and his eyes were riveted to her mouth. She was suddenly very glad that Seth and Summer went into their own world when they fought.

She continued licking until his hand grabbed her wrist, pulling the cone away from her mouth. She looked up – confused and slightly panicky – and his eyes flashed a warning at her – _stop._ He looked so uncomfortable. _Oh God, he looked so uncomfortable_. A thrill sped through her, _she_ had made him uncomfortable. In public. She had beaten him at his own game, and he knew it. She decided to rub it in, pouting at him a little in mock sadness.

"Ew, Cohen!" Summer's loud, high-pitched, laugh brought them out of it, and he let go of her wrist quickly. Summer was batting away Seth's ice cream cone, which he was trying to smash into her face.

"Yeah, I'll show you ice cream on your nose," he threatened as she giggled, throwing up her hands to block him. Taylor looked back at Ryan, and got worried. He didn't look playful anymore. In fact, he was getting a little broody, the corners of his mouth turned down and his brow crinkled in thought.

"Seth, can I have the keys?" he interrupted the dark-haired couple's fight.

"Yeah, man," Seth looked at him worriedly, shooting a look at Summer, who also stopped smiling. Ryan noticed, and tried to look happy.

"I'm just assuming you want to hang with Summer after this, so I was gonna take Taylor home."

"Oh," Seth sounded a little more positive. "Summer, my darling, want to watch Hollywood Squares tonight?" he waggled his eyebrows playfully, and Taylor was reminded of Sandy.

"Cohen," she giggled, and the two immediately resumed their playful banter.

Ryan shot her a look, motioning with his head that she was to follow him out. She mumbled a quick 'bye' to Summer - who took no notice - and followed him. She tried to catch up, but he was walking too quickly, so she settled for just keeping him in sight, focusing on his broad back as he made his way to the car, the darkened sky making it hard to see him. She was shocked – and delighted – when he opened the passenger side door for her, and waited for her to get in before shutting it. She stared at the windshield as he got in, unsure of what to say. He, in turn, said nothing; just started the car and drove.

_

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_

Review!


	6. Padiddle & the end

_Ok,__ I really had trouble writing this chapter, so I hope it's alright… it's kind of short…_

_Enjoy, and review!_

_Oh, also, a note: I'm not sure if people really know what Padiddle is, but it's a real game. Anyway, if you don't know how it's played, google it or something._

* * *

She threw up her hand a split second after he did, and he laughed. She grumbled, bending down awkwardly to remove her socks. While she was focusing on that, she heard his hand hit the roof again, and groaned, looking up to see a second one-headlight car fly by them.

"That's two, Townsend," he grinned, and she glared at him, taking her hat off as well.

"How is it that every time I spend time alone with you, I end up taking my clothes off?" He looked over at her briefly, smirking.

"Don't worry, it seems to happen to most women." She gasped in mock horror, punching him in the arm, and he laughed.

They were silent as he drove on, only the radio singing quietly at them. There was a red light ahead, and Ryan began to slow the car. Taylor threw her hand up when she spotted the oncoming car, squealing excitedly as Ryan tried to catch up. "Damn it," he muttered, pulling to a stop at the light. He bent down, quickly removing his shoes and throwing them into the back seat as the light turned green.

"Too slow," she mocked, grinning at him sideways.

"That was just my shoes. You've already lost three items, and I'd say I only have two or three more to go before I hit the good stuff." Was it just her or did his voice get deeper?

"Well," she spoke through a suddenly tight throat, "I think I deserve to win this game, because all I got during poker was you without a shirt." She paused for a second, as if debating, "although, you do have a very nice upper body area." His smile faltered, and his eyes flicked sideways at her briefly before going back to the road. "So I think I deserve to know if you have a very nice lower body, too." Her pulse pounded as his hands gripped the steering wheel.

* * *

"So I guess I should be heading towards Summer's house," Ryan said awkwardly. They were nearing home, and it didn't seem like they would be able to finish their game – Ryan currently still had his pants, wife beater, and boxers on, Taylor still with her skirt and underwear.

"Yeah." She fidgeted, glad that it was dark so that no one outside could see them, half dressed.

"Although, Seth might be going over there," he reasoned, and suddenly it seemed like the most logical thing in the world.

"You're right," Taylor grabbed hold of the idea, "Summer and I are sharing a room. I can't go there while they're spending time together-"

"-and they need to. Spend time together," Ryan cut a quick right, heading towards the Cohen's.

"Because of the awkward Rhode Island-distance thing," Taylor agreed a little breathlessly.

"Well, we can just hang out at the pool house until we're sure it's safe."

* * *

He parked the car, and she bent down to pick up her shirt off the car floor. She pulled it over her head, thanking whoever was listening that it was dark outside. They really didn't need anyone seeing the two half-naked teenagers awkwardly try to redress in the vehicle. He followed her lead, twisting into the back seat to grab his shoes and button-down shirt.

"I guess the Cohens aren't home," he mused, looking at the abandoned driveway.

"Oh," she glanced out the window, trying to still her shaking hands by folding them in her lap.

"Wanna go inside?"

* * *

Her heels clacked loudly on the pavement, and she watched his stiff shoulders as he walked in front of her. He fumbled for a second with the door, before finally getting it open, holding it for her as she walked in.

"So," she began, placing her purse on the bedside table and wiping her palms on her skirt. She was suddenly incredibly nervous, and his silence wasn't exactly helping.

Turning to face him, she found herself caught up in a kiss, desperate and passionate at the same time. One hand cupped her head, the other sliding down to press against the small of her back, drawing her into him. A squeak escaped her throat – God, did she really just make that noise? – and his arm slid fully around her waist, crushing himself against her.

This was amazing; it was better than she had dreamed – or allowed herself to dream. She couldn't believe this was happening, and if it weren't for the hand gripping her waist painfully, she would just think it was another dream.

Too soon – much too soon – he pulled his mouth away from hers, breathing ragged and irregular, and then pushed his whole body away, taking several small steps back. If he hadn't taken her breath away, she would have screamed in frustration.

"I'm not ready for this."

Her eyes snapped to him, body going rigid. "Excuse me?"

"This," his voice cracked a little; he was shaking a little – whether from nerves or from the kiss, she couldn't tell -, and there was a hint of fear lacing his speech. "You and me. Look, I know about this… thing you have for me," he tried to look comforting, holding out his hands, as if to say '_it's ok_'. "I just… can't."

She blinked slowly, processing this information, and she knew her mouth was open in a wide 'o' of surprise and indignation. "Ok," she tried hard to speak calmly, "now, I've done my fair share of misinterpreting signs, but… you tell me you picture me naked, you invite me into your room, you _kiss_ me…"

"I know," he cut in mournfully. "Look," he sighed, dropping onto the bed in defeat. Taylor knew he wasn't normally one for talking, so she let him go uninterrupted. "I had fun hanging out with you. And you naked, is…" he shook his head, moving on, "and after the strip poker, I freaked out. Cause I've… I haven't been attracted to anyone since…" another shake of his head, "but then when I saw you today, I thought I could do it. And that's why I invited you over. And why I kissed you. But I just… I don't think I'm ready for a relationship yet…"

She let out a breathless laugh, taking a step back from him. "Look, Ryan, I never said this had to be a relationship. I mean, the ink on my divorce papers isn't even dry yet." If she weren't so annoyed with him, she would have laughed at the relief on his face. She took a deep breath before continuing, letting a slow smile spread across her face. "Just because I want to use your body as a jungle gym, doesn't mean we have to get married." Something flickered across his face, darkening his eyes, at the words 'jungle gym'. _Nice metaphor, Townsend_, she congratulated herself, smile getting wider.

"Wow. Taylor, that's…"

"Normal?" she finished for him, nodding knowingly. "I know, I have my moments."

Silence spread over them, but it wasn't awkward. He was staring at her with such intensity that her heart began to race madly, butterflies erupting in her stomach. He stepped towards her, eyes lingering on her lips, and was leaning in to kiss her…

"You know," she interrupted, halting his advance, "I think we should play another game." He looked at her like she was insane – which she kind of was – but this was payback.

"What?" he was starting to sound pissed off. She raised an eyebrow at him, skipping to the closet where the games were kept. She knew exactly which game she wanted – she had seen it when he got Monopoly out all those weeks ago - and she threw a sadistic smirk over her shoulder as she pulled out the white box. "Are you kidding me?" he choked out as she threw the lid onto his bed, still smirking. _This_ game she knew she would win – she was very bendable.

"What, are you scared?" she teased, pulling out and unfolding the large sheet. He stuffed his hands into his pockets stubbornly, shaking his head no. "Good," she smoothed out the expanse of plastic, and taking the large cardboard wheel out of the box as well. She spun it, watching the hand fly, and after a few seconds it stopped. "Left hand blue, Atwood," she challenged. He glared at her as he pressed his palm to the Twister mat.

_

* * *

_

I think this is

_gonna__ be the end. It just seems appropriate… RT got together, and I think the show can pick up from here.__ I would finish out the Twister game, but knowing my brain, it would go somewhere very inappropriate for the __T__ rating…_

_Thanks all for reading and I really hope you enjoyed it!_

_p.s. – the Twister game is for __ObsessedRomantic! __Yay!_


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